


What He's For

by Anonymous



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Child Abuse, Dubious Consent, F/M, Feeding, Imprisonment, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 19:29:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn't want him to touch her, but he's made to give her what she needs, not what she wants.  Kara/Leoben noncon on New Caprica.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What He's For

**Author's Note:**

> The inspiration for this series: a while ago I read that some people who don't ship Kara/Leoben and aren't into it think that what it must be about is rape fantasy - he raped her and she liked it. That is, needless to say, not what I normally do with the ship, but it got me thinking about if such a thing could be written and if so what it would look like. So: Warning, this is a rape fantasy fic of the 'he raped her and she liked it' kind, set on New Caprica. Fairly graphic. Very creepy. Not consistent with anything else I've written. I know that rape doesn't work like this and I hope you do too.

Dinner was steak, mashed potatoes and peas. Kara ate because she was hungry. That had been the first kind of surrender, the day she ate the food he put in front of her because she wasn't willing to starve herself any more. The second was when she showered and combed her hair and cleaned the caked vomit off her face. The third was when she sat silently while he prayed. There had been many more.

After dinner he sat next to her on the sofa. "Take off your shirt," he said.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I'm going to hurt you if you don't," he said, with a broad open smile to make clear that he was absolutely not joking. There were times when he'd allow her to fight him, even to kill him, but this was not one of those times. She blandly pulled off her shirt and he covered her breasts with his hands.

"You're going to rape me," she said.

"I'm going to frak you," he said. "Whether you like it or not, whether you resist or not. How you respond is up to you." 

Her body went slack as he stroked up and down the side of her chest with one hand. He knew she had been dreaming of him. He also knew that she would never consent, that this was the only way to give her what she needed. He felt the tremor around her ribs as he ran his fingers over them, then bought his hand back to brush it over her nipple. She let out a breath. Then suddenly, without warning, she punched him hard in the jaw, hard enough to draw blood, sending him falling backwards.

It was what he expected. It was something she needed to do, to show some resistance, to prove to herself and to her mother's voice that she had fought him off as long as she could. He grabbed both of her hands with one of his, pushed her down on the sofa, and sat on top of her legs. With his free hand he tore at his own clothes. His body was built to be attractive to her and it was time she saw it. With a few short rips his shirt hung in shreds around him. Then he yanked down his pants. She closed her eyes so he pried them open. Then he went back to touching her breasts. He moved his hand slowly, brushing his palm over her nipple before rolling it between his fingers. Her arms relaxed where he was holding them with his hand. She knew it was futile to struggle. And if it was futile, she didn't have to try. He undid her pants and slipped his hand into them to stroke her clit. She was already wet, and she moistened more when he touched her. He slipped two fingers into her to stimulate her from the inside while he kept working her clit with his thumb. He wanted to taste her but he couldn't do that without releasing her hands. He would, in time. But he let his thumb be as gentle as his lips as it moved between her folds. After a few more strokes she clenched around his hand and he felt the sweetness of her release course through her body.

"Is that enough?" she asked, her voice tired. "Can we stop now?"

"No," he said.

It had been a month that she had been with him in the home he'd made. She hadn't gone this long without intercourse since she was seventeen. Her body was ready for it, needed it. He pulled down her pants and maneuvered himself between her legs, never letting go of her arms. She tried to clench her legs but he held them apart with his body. She was sweet and wet and warm against him, and he moved slowly to let her feel every motion as he entered her. She clenched, but it only made the fit tighter. He knew the angles she liked, the speed and strength that would bring her the deepest satisfaction. She needed it, like she needed the food he made for her. He felt her responding as his rhythm grew stonger and faster, her breath escaping her in short, sharp pants as her chest began to flush. Finally she clenched hard around him as he felt her come. There were tears in her eyes when he finally withdrew and let go of her hands. He made no effort to cover his body from her, and he let her see that his penis was still erect so that she would know he hadn't come. He had, in fact, never experienced orgasm in his life. He knew he would, one day. Watching Kara, he could almost imagine what it would be like.

He left a knife on the table, in reach. It felt only right.


	2. Nourishment

Dinner is carrots, peas, steak and potatoes. There's even something that looks like ambrosia. She eats and drinks because she's tried escaping and it doesn't work, and food is put in front of her and she might as well eat it. "Why am I still here?" Kara asks.

"Because it's not yet time for you to go," Leoben says.

After dinner it's time for the next thing, and he picks her up from the chair and carries her to the couch. Resistance would just entertain him so she doesn't bother, not this time. He lies her down and kneels down next to her. "Kara," he says. His voice is soft and so is his hand in her hair. 

"Frak off," she says. Her voice sounds tired. She sounds tired. She's exhausted from this and there's nowhere to go.

He trails two fingers across her cheek to rest at the base of her neck. Then he finds the same spot on the other side of her neck and breathes on it. She can feel his pulse beating through his fingers, connecting to hers, and his breath, so soft. He doesn't move. She doesn't move. There are times he's frakked her, times she's begged him to, and she thinks it was easier than this. His breathing and his pulse exactly match hers. Unwillingly, she closes her eyes. She feels surrounded, embraced, held by his breath and his heartbeat.

"Can we stop?" she says. She sounds young. She feels helpless. He's good to her this time, he pulls away, then cruel again as he lifts up her shirt to kiss the space between her breasts. He lingers there, lips pressed near her heart, and gently brushes over one nipple with his hand. Unwillingly, she feels herself moisten. She feels him smile against her skin. He always knows when she's responding to him. When she looks at him his shirt is already off. He's beautiful and he knows she likes to look at him. 

The rest is a blur, his mouth on her belly and between her legs and everywhere, his hands holding her down and touching her. He knows every response she makes and how to pull it from her, and he knows that the moan she makes when he slides into her isn't one of pain. It feels good, nourishing like potatoes and meat and sweet like ambrosia. She lets herself forget it's him, then lets herself forget that she doesn't want this. There's nowhere to go and no way to escape. 

He moves until she comes for him, then just a little more to soothe her sensitized body. He never comes while he's in her, just slows his pace while she catches her breath. He's draped on top of her, his pressure warm and comforting. 

All her life she's had to care for everyone else. First her mother, then Zak, then all the remnants of humanity. Here there's nothing she can do and no one she can do it for. She has no choice but to lie back and let Leoben frak her. She wants him to do it again. She knows he will. 

"All your life you've been pretending," he says, and his voice is calm like he's not still inside her. "I only want you to see the truth of who you are."

She knows there's a knife on the table, he always leaves one for her after they've frakked. She could get up and kill him if she wanted. Instead, she wraps her arms and legs around him and fades into sweet, dreamless sleep.


	3. The Game

Dinner is always the same, with minor variations. Always some kind of meat, some kind of vegetable, some kind of starch, just sitting there in its monotony like some kind of sick attempt at reassurance. It's like way Leoben fraks her when the meal is done. There is nothing Kara can do to change it. Whether she fights him, or goes limp, or tries to think about other people, the only way it ever ends is with Leoben inside her, thrusting deep, shaking her and focusing her attention on him as he makes her come. She doesn't want it, like she doesn't want to be here, and there's no way to make it any different. So when dinner is over she pulls vaguely at her shirt. Her hands feel clumsy, and it feels like hours before she gets it off. "Come on," she says. Her voice is flat. She doesn't want this. She's not consenting, just submitting, and at least she's still herself enough to know the difference.

Leoben's eyes are wide and reverent and he walks around the table to kneel in front of her. He kisses her belly and puts both his hands on her breasts. He's not holding her down, so his hands can be more gentle, but it still feels good where he's touching her.

"I don't want this," she says.

He looks up at her for a long moment, with what looks like compassion. It doesn't make sense since he's holding her here, but since he never comes from frakking her she knows it's not for him. "I'm sorry this is necessary," he says at last, his hands still locked on her nipples. Then he slips one hand around her back and covers her breast with his mouth. She knows she's wet. She can't not feel the deep way he's touching and licking her. 

The next thing that she knows will happen is him taking off or tearing her pants to frak her, so she reaches down to get them down herself. Immediately he moves his mouth lower. His lips are warm and soft on her clit, he sucks and licks and her hips are out of her control and rock to capture the sensation. "Please stop," she says, and he strokes her back to show he's heard her and keeps licking with the same sweet, burning intensity. He lets it build until she needs to come, gives her a few minutes to feel the yearning, then finishes with a long suck and two fingers in her as she gasps and releases and feels the pleasure coursing through her. 

She feels it, and knows that this once she did nothing to stop it. The thought makes her nauseous. It's another part of herself she's lost.

On the table her fork shines like a promise in metal. Leoben's face is still buried between her legs, coaxing her down and soothing her with his tongue. It takes an act of will to do it, but she can, and in an instant she grabs the fork and brings it down quickly on the back of his neck. Her knee connects to his face and he's bleeding, and he's stronger than she is but she knows how to fight and in a few more moments he's down. She keeps stabbing him until he's dead.

It's not in any sense a victory. Killing Leoben from time to time is one of the things that he allows her to do. And it won't keep him away. His blood covers her naked thighs and chest. She thinks about showering but doesn't want to be naked when he comes back, so she pulls her jeans and shirt on over the blood. There's a bit of food left so she eats it with her hands, then she curls up on the sofa with her arms around her knees and rocks back and forth. She tries to think of a song and she can't. The walls around her are hard and bare and there's no way to leave. She watches the clock and counts under her breath.

In about an hour Leoben is back. He doesn't say anything, doesn't pay any attention to his body on the floor, just walks over, pushes her down on the sofa, holds her down, rips the seam out of the crotch of her jeans with one hand and then thrusts in. She tries to struggle but there's no point, they've tried this before, he's much stronger than she is and he can always immobilize her while frakking her. "Damn you," she says, but he doesn't care, of course he doesn't care, just keeps thrusting in ways she likes until she feels herself responding, no matter how much she doesn't want to, no matter how much she hates this.

"There are some things you can't control, Kara," he says, and his voice is calm though he's thrusting hard. "Even dying can't stop them." And she starts to feel it, like a bright precious spark building inside her, more than pleasure, more than release, something she can't find but is always there, and she wants to cling to him so she lets herself, and it's sweet and it's terrifying but she's fearless now because he's holding her and there is nothing she can do about it. 

When the tremors pass, and the bliss, she finds herself laughing in Leoben's arms. She's not sure what's funny, but he's smiling too. He glances at his body on the floor. "Well played," he says.

"Yeah," she says. "Good game." For a moment she can believe it, and the place she's in feels right and it feels good to be with him, fighting and frakking and loving and feeling. It's a good feeling, an unusual one, and it's almost sad when a moment later it's gone.


	4. Peace

There comes a point where Kara needs peace, a moment of it, and she'll make it herself if she has to because everything else is just wrong. So she doesn't fight this time. She welcomes him as he touches her, responds the way her body wants to. She even touches him back. His chest is rough, his ribs protrude and she can kiss the space between them. "I know you," she says, and she doesn't know why.

There's got to be peace, she can't live without it, so she straddles him. When she pushes down on to him it's just as sweet as when he thrusts in her. There's a freedom in not having choices, no one can tell her she's wrong, Lee can't judge her and Sam can't reproach her. Leoben's hands are firm on her waist and she can't not respond so she lets herself, shoving her hips back and forth to feel every sensation. The walls around her are thick and immutable and they shelter her like Leoben's voice and the constant refrain of destiny.

He angles up, and touches a good place, and it feels good and Kara doesn't fight it. It's not surrender, it's peace, and she feels it like bliss when he moves. He watches her and she feels cared for by his eyes, it feels like being young and free. He's not shaken by her gasps, just moves with her, back and forth, so sweet, moving and at rest. Everything is keeping them there, he's no more able to go than she is, they can't move except to touch and kiss, to cling and gasp. 

When they're done she lies down on top of him, soothed by the touch of skin on skin. She feels his sweat and there's peace in it, and in the way their bodies mingle and intertwine. She presses her face to his neck and lets him encircle her so she can rest. She makes sure not to raise her head, and not to turn, to make sure she doesn't see the knife on the table behind them.


	5. Hunger

He fraks her at night after dinner, and she can't stop the fraks but she can stop eating. That night when he puts the rare steak in front of her she just smells it. She doesn't move, doesn't taste it, doesn't do anything else. He waits and she waits, in the long term he can outwait her but there are only a certain number of hours that this night can last. Finally he gets up from the table, leaving the cold steak in front of her. He doesn't frak her that night, but there are some nights that he doesn't so it doesn't exactly mean that she's won.

By the next night she's weaker. She feels the hunger like a pain in her belly and concentrates on it and watches the steak as it cools. Eventually Leoben sits next to her, cuts up the steak, and puts a piece into her mouth with his fingers. She spits it out. The next time he holds her mouth closed after placing food in it. She waits, pretends to chew, pretends to swallow, and when he moves his hand she dribbles the food into it.

"Kara," he says, "don't do this to yourself. Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes," she says. 

She can spit his food out of her mouth but she can't spit his penis out of her vagina when he puts it in. She never can, she isn't strong enough to prevent him from holding her down and frakking her, and being weak and hungry doesn't make it any easier. He strips off all his clothes and hers before penetrating her so she feels all the motions of his body, so sweet, and she has to concentrate on the hunger and the pain of it to keep from feeling too much pleasure from the way he moves on her and in her. He's never not brought her to orgasm when frakking her, starving herself can't change that, but this time when he finally forces her to shudder and relax in his arms it's not as complete a pleasure and satisfaction as he normally gives her. There's something of herself she's managed to save.

He lies next to her, afterwards, curled into her shoulder and toying idly with one nipple that hardens into a peak under his touch. "Don't," she says. "Don't touch me." Her voice is weak, she's weak, but it's a refrain she keeps saying and she doesn't want to stop. "Please don't touch me," she says, and she sounds defeated but she says it anyway, and her nipples are hard and her thighs are wet and she means it with all the hunger she feels. "Don't touch me," she says.

Leoben gets up and Kara's sitting by the time he returns a moment later with her plate in his hands. Instinctively she takes it from him, although she doesn't touch the fork or the food, and he kneels down and puts his hands on both her knees. "If you don't eat it I'll frak you again, right now," he says.

"Bastard," she says.

Leoben shrugs. "Those who made me were legally married. I wonder if your children will be able to say the same."

It sounds like a threat. It is a threat. He hasn't yet come inside her while frakking her, but he could, she doesn't have the ability to stop him. She doesn't have the ability to stop anything. She slowly lifts one morsel of steak to her lips and puts it in her mouth, allows herself to taste it. It tastes good. It's less than the pleasure of orgasm, though, less sweet than the feel of Leoben inside her. She takes another bite, forces herself to swallow. 

After two bites she puts her fork down. Leoben shoves his hand between her thighs and begins to stroke her clit. She's already wet and his finger is slick and rough. "I like having sex with you," he says. "I'd be happy to do it again, if that's what you want." She lifts her fork again, and he smiles and stills his hand.

She eats, slowly. When her fork stills her punishment is another long, slow draw of Leoben's finger, and the shudder it sends through her body. Once he even darts his head in to lick her nipple, but he moves quickly so she can't use her fork to stab him. Her hunger was a useless card to play. She has no cards to play, not here, not with the walls of this prison fixed around her and looking like home.

When she's done he withdraws his hand from between her legs, takes her plate from her hand, then places it on the floor. Then he grabs her two hands and with one of his holds them over her head, and uses his other hand and his hips to push her legs apart. He forces her down on the sofa and lies down on top of her.

"You said you wouldn't," she says.

"Did I?" he says, and of course he hadn't. 

"There are some things, Kara, that you need to learn that you can't control," he says as he fraks her. His hips make wide circles so she can feel him in every part of her. "You can't stop me from having sex with you. You can't stop yourself from wanting. Needing. Responding." He punctuates the last word with a sharp upward thrust that makes her gasp. He's here to soothe her hungers, and there's nothing she can do, no way to make it stop. He takes her time frakking her, building it slowly, and this time she doesn't have any other hunger to protect her. She can't stop it, so she lets herself go, lets herself feel the closeness and the gentle burning sweetness that feels like bliss everywhere he touches her. She wants to cry, she's losing so much and his hands and his walls are keeping her warm and loved and safe. The pleasure builds in her loins and she feels it and feels it, and his eyes are bright and fixed on her and he lets her feel it and feel it for as long as she can bear until with one final snap of his hips he gives her release.

When he lets go of her hands she puts them on his shoulders. His back is warm and wet. She wants to kiss his shoulder so she does, and he tastes salty and human-sweet where she licks him. "There are other things you can't control, Kara," he says. He's still hard in her and moving softly, bringing her down. "Do you know what they are?"

She does, or she thinks she might, but she doesn't want to think about it. So she thinks about something else.

"Why don't you come when you're frakking me?" she asks.

"You don't love me yet," Leoben says. "My seed would find no welcome in your womb."

"Oh," she says, tired. "Cylons only have sex for babies?" It doesn't quite make any sense, like nothing here does.

"I don't know what other Cylons do," Leoben says. "And I've never had sex with anyone else."

Kara had frakked virgins before, and it wasn't anything like this. "Are you saying God showed you in a vision how to frak me?" she asks. 

"I don't need to say anything," he says. "You know what you know. God sent me like a scourge to fill you where you're empty and feed you where you hunger, to break what's whole and to heal what's broken."

He's still moving in her, slowly. It feels good. She's tired after her release, and after the day spent fasting. "Would you come if I asked you to?" she says.

Suddenly he's frozen, his eyes sharp on her in an odd look of panic and fear. Then he presses his head to the side of her neck. She can feel his heartbeat. "Are you asking me to?" he says, and there's a tension in his voice that she's never ever heard. She wants to say yes, she thinks about how beautiful he would be relaxed in pleasure, but she doesn't want him to enjoy forcing her to have sex with him against her will any more than he does already. So she doesn't say anything at all.

In time he relaxes, pretends nothing happened. He holds her, and it feels good to be in his arms. As she falls asleep she lets out one last question, "Don't you get hungry too?"

He doesn't answer, just holds her, and she's drifted off and near sleeping before she hears, or thinks she might, a soft, whispered, broken, _yes_.


	6. Consent

There comes a point where he stops frakking her. He just doesn't one day, and then just doesn't the next. It takes days before she starts to miss it, and when it does she'll be damned if she's going to ask for it. She's a prisoner here, she's not asking for any favors or submitting any more than she has to. So it's three and a half weeks before, without warning, he sits her down on the sofa after dinner and puts his hand on her breast. She fights because she does, because that's how she remembers what she is, but he gets her hands pinned over her head and her pants down at her ankles quickly enough. He releases her hands briefly for a quick lick at her clit, then pins her again and shoves in, and she's wet already and it only takes her a minute of his thrusting to come. 

When it's over he pulls out, sits up, and lets her look at him. He's still hard and wet with her fluids. His clothes hang from him in ribbons, revealing his chest and arms as well as his ass and dick. She's come once, but it's not enough, she needs more, and she has a sudden impulse to get up and straddle him and take him inside her. She doesn't do it. She needs it too much, and knows from drinking that when she needs something this much that's just the thing she can't have. So she says nothing as he gets up and walks away.

His clothes are sewn together the next day like they'd never been torn. So are hers. That's just how things happen here. The food is always there, she doesn't know where it comes from, and it always tastes good when she lets herself eat it. Five nights later she sits on the sofa and tugs at her shirt. "Come on," she says, her voice dull.

"And do what?" Leoben asks. She doesn't say anything. "You need to ask for it," he says. "I'm not going to do anything to you that you don't want."

"That's a change," Kara said.

"Yes," he says, "yes it is. You're no longer a child. Children are given what they need without asking."

"So you rape children," Kara says. "Good to know."

"Kara," Leoben says, "you know I've never had sex with anyone but you."

And he's lying, he won't give her what she wants. She wants to get out of here, to go home and to go back to her husband and frak _him_ in ways that don't make her think of Leoben's strong arms and serious eyes. "Let me go," she says.

"I can't do that yet," he says. "I'm sorry this is necessary."

Leoben's kind was made when humans craved fleshy bodies that they could compel for sexual use. It was an act of mercy, to free the human women and men who had been held in captivity to serve the sexual needs by replacing them with robot bodies that could be owned. When Cylons were banned after the war humans were once again recruited for the purpose. Meanwhile free women were told by the Priests of Gemenon that illicit childbearing was a punishment for uncontrolled sexuality. Leoben tells her stories instead of frakking her, and she knows the stories and she wants a frak and she can't imagine what any of these stories have to do with her. She doesn't think coercion should be a part of sex, that was never something she thought, but when she says as much to get Leoben to shut up he looks at her as though she's admitted something and smiles. She thinks maybe he'll give her what she's aching for but he doesn't. "You need to ask, Kara," he says, and frak if she will, frak if she'll give up the last card she has left.

But she does, and it only takes two months before her body hurts so much from denial that she has to. Leoben's wearing a black shirt that shows his arms and he has a bit of stubble and she knows what it feels like on the inside of her thigh. She lets him put away the dishes from dinner, but just as he's going upstairs she tells him to wait. "I want you to frak me," she said. Her voice is low and clear and she stares at the floor and makes no effort to sound seductive. He will or he won't.

"Okay," he says.

She follows him upstairs, since there's no point in doing this on the sofa. His bedroom is bright and broad and full of light, and his large windows don't have any bars. It looks nothing like hers. She strips off all her clothes and lies down in the center of his large bed. He sits at her feet, his eyes fixed on her, and his clothes shred like paper in his hands. His neck is straight and muscled and his chest is wide like the forest floor. His hips curve down to a sweet and tight ass and his penis nestles like a gift between his muscled and strong legs. Kara parts her legs and closes her eyes.

He begins with kisses, soft and sweet on her forehead and neck. Then he strokes her, slow and light and feathery down the side of her arm and chest, keeping his lips always moving gently against her face. She's impatient so she puts his hand on her crotch, and he slips one finger between her folds to her clit to caress her and hold her there while waking the rest of her body to his touch. She feels the light on her face, and this room isn't hers, and Leoben's hand and lips are light and gentle on her shoulder, her back, the inside of her arm, the outside of her breast. He makes it slow for her, bringing her to the brink and then taking her down before finally, with the flick of a finger, giving her release. She keeps her eyes closed, only whispers _yes_ as he presses in, as he moves so sweetly. His weight feels good on her. There's nothing to lose so she opens her eyes, and his eyes are blue like the sky and the sea and full of love, and she cries out and it's good, and it's right, and she can't understand why she's waited to so long.

Nothing feels different when he finishes her climax off with two deep, long thrusts. She relaxes, feeling the peace of the room, until she notices him softening inside her and the fluids dripping down the inside of her thigh. "You're safe," he says, before she can panic. "You don't love me yet." And Cylons can't conceive without love. Leoben's head is buried in her shoulder and he doesn't look at her face. She thinks maybe she should comfort him. It was his first time after all, but she doesn't know how. He's too real, and she still needs to escape, and she worries that she might not be as safe as he thinks.

A few days later when she gets her cycle she's mostly relieved, and tries not to notice the small, tempting thought that if there were a child she'd have to stay.

Kara never asks again. Occasionally Leoben makes vague gestures in the direction of his bedroom, saying it'd be nice if she joins him, but she pretends she doesn't know what he means. She feels the ache in her and lets it sit there, the hunger and the longing. He never touches her, except briefly, on the hair or shoulder, telling her that she is beautiful.


End file.
